Of course I fucking want to fuck you. I want to push you down onto the carpet and squat over you with my feet planted firmly on the hard floor, easing myself down onto your dick while you try desperately to hold back from thrusting upwards. I want to put both my hands on your chest to steady myself, and look into your eyes as they widen when you feel your cock sliding in. I want all of this and more, just give me five minutes.

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This blog post started out as an exploration of why it would be sexy for a monster to devour me, and turned into something approaching an actual scary story. Please don’t read if you’re easily freaked out by things like death, blood and devourment. On the other hand, if you love creepy Halloween sex stuff, this might be your cup of tea.

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I’m still catching up on work, blog and life after Eroticon, so to tide you over with something fun I’ll give you a quick and dirty poem. I wrote this in part during Ashley Lister’s workshop, then tweaked it slightly on the train back.

It’s rough. But so am I.

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